you really feel you don’t need me, Mr. Corliss.”
I gave the words the proper emphasis. “I can handle everything myself,” I said.
“You mustn’t get too confident,” Miranda said.
“I know my own limitations,” I replied.
“You two talk as if I weren’t here to help,” Connie said with small-girl plaintiveness.
“I’m certain you’ll be a great help, Mrs. Corliss,” Miranda said, starting bluntly, sliding into her odd breathlessness at the end of the sentence.
“Then it’s settled,” Connie said brightly, clapping her hands once, a habit I had at one time found almost unbearably sweet.…
In the middle of the night Miranda’s hand against my cheek awakened me. The bed stirred as she sat on it. The night was as black as a sealed coffin.
Her whisper had the same quality as her speaking voice. “You can’t do it alone, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever it is that you’ve been planning, my darling.”
“May I take this as a declaration of your great and undying passion?”
“See? You can’t hurt me that way. You can’t hurt me by trying to hurt me. That’s a sort of secret we have. We’ve said more things with a look than we can ever say with words.”
“I’m touched, deeply.”
Her nearness was more vital than any caress. “You’ve got to let me help. You’ve got to let me share.”
“Why?”
“Doing something and never having a sharing of it is bad. Then it’s all on the inside. We can talk, you know. Afterward.”
Nurse and patient, probing together a deep and desperate wound.
“But I have a way and you aren’t in it.”
“Then there must be a new way. Two can think better. You might forget something important.”
“You’re accepting the correctness of the decision, then?”
“Only because it’s yours. I don’t matter. I’ve never had any strong feelings about right and wrong.”
“That’s a lie, Miranda.”
Hoarsely: “So it’s a lie! When you’ve seen the evil I’ve seen—”
“I’ll let you help on one condition, Miranda.”
“Anything.”
“We haven’t used the words yet. I want you to say the wordswe’ve been skirting so carefully. I want you to say them slowly. All the words. Now, what are you going to do?”
Her hands found my wrist and the moth touch was gone. Her nails dug in with a surprising force. “I am going to help you kill your wife and her lover.”
“Why?”
“Because they hurt you so badly, and it’s something you want to do.”
“But more than that. The other reason.”
“Because after it is done it will be something so strong between us that we’ll never be apart again.”
“Love, then?”
“No. Something stronger than that. Something more exciting.”
“You want half a man?”
“I’m strong enough for two. I knew it would be this way. Ever since that night I kept you from dying. You gave up that night. I sat and whispered in your ear why you had to live. Over and over. And you did.”
“It’s settled, then. Go in the morning. Be patient. I’ll come to you when I can.”
She left quickly, plunging towards the doorway, miraculously finding it in the blackness.
Strength slowly
came back. My clothes began to fit again. Tone came back to the mended muscles. Connie stayed in the guest room. For a long time she seemed to be waiting, and when she saw that there would be no demands on her uxorial capacities, there seemed to be a relief in her. Once, when she was out, I went over her personal checks against the small income from her father. I checked back far enough to find out when it had started. They had been a little careless several months before my accident. Instead of cashing two of the checks, she had turned them over to her friend. The endorsements were a scrawled
L. Palmer
, with a self-conscious flowery squiggle under the name. I took those two checks. They were both for twenty-five.
I didn’t hate either of them. I was cold—cold as any self-respecting corpse should be.
With the
I gave the words the proper emphasis. “I can handle everything myself,” I said.
“You mustn’t get too confident,” Miranda said.
“I know my own limitations,” I replied.
“You two talk as if I weren’t here to help,” Connie said with small-girl plaintiveness.
“I’m certain you’ll be a great help, Mrs. Corliss,” Miranda said, starting bluntly, sliding into her odd breathlessness at the end of the sentence.
“Then it’s settled,” Connie said brightly, clapping her hands once, a habit I had at one time found almost unbearably sweet.…
In the middle of the night Miranda’s hand against my cheek awakened me. The bed stirred as she sat on it. The night was as black as a sealed coffin.
Her whisper had the same quality as her speaking voice. “You can’t do it alone, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever it is that you’ve been planning, my darling.”
“May I take this as a declaration of your great and undying passion?”
“See? You can’t hurt me that way. You can’t hurt me by trying to hurt me. That’s a sort of secret we have. We’ve said more things with a look than we can ever say with words.”
“I’m touched, deeply.”
Her nearness was more vital than any caress. “You’ve got to let me help. You’ve got to let me share.”
“Why?”
“Doing something and never having a sharing of it is bad. Then it’s all on the inside. We can talk, you know. Afterward.”
Nurse and patient, probing together a deep and desperate wound.
“But I have a way and you aren’t in it.”
“Then there must be a new way. Two can think better. You might forget something important.”
“You’re accepting the correctness of the decision, then?”
“Only because it’s yours. I don’t matter. I’ve never had any strong feelings about right and wrong.”
“That’s a lie, Miranda.”
Hoarsely: “So it’s a lie! When you’ve seen the evil I’ve seen—”
“I’ll let you help on one condition, Miranda.”
“Anything.”
“We haven’t used the words yet. I want you to say the wordswe’ve been skirting so carefully. I want you to say them slowly. All the words. Now, what are you going to do?”
Her hands found my wrist and the moth touch was gone. Her nails dug in with a surprising force. “I am going to help you kill your wife and her lover.”
“Why?”
“Because they hurt you so badly, and it’s something you want to do.”
“But more than that. The other reason.”
“Because after it is done it will be something so strong between us that we’ll never be apart again.”
“Love, then?”
“No. Something stronger than that. Something more exciting.”
“You want half a man?”
“I’m strong enough for two. I knew it would be this way. Ever since that night I kept you from dying. You gave up that night. I sat and whispered in your ear why you had to live. Over and over. And you did.”
“It’s settled, then. Go in the morning. Be patient. I’ll come to you when I can.”
She left quickly, plunging towards the doorway, miraculously finding it in the blackness.
Strength slowly
came back. My clothes began to fit again. Tone came back to the mended muscles. Connie stayed in the guest room. For a long time she seemed to be waiting, and when she saw that there would be no demands on her uxorial capacities, there seemed to be a relief in her. Once, when she was out, I went over her personal checks against the small income from her father. I checked back far enough to find out when it had started. They had been a little careless several months before my accident. Instead of cashing two of the checks, she had turned them over to her friend. The endorsements were a scrawled
L. Palmer
, with a self-conscious flowery squiggle under the name. I took those two checks. They were both for twenty-five.
I didn’t hate either of them. I was cold—cold as any self-respecting corpse should be.
With the
Similar Books
